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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/22933942">For Fuck's Sake</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/JET_Playin/pseuds/JET_Playin'>JET_Playin</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, Baking, Crabbe Lived, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Friends to Lovers, Getting Together, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, Hogwarts Eighth Year, M/M, Muggle Studies, Not Epilogue Compliant</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-02-28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-02-28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-01 07:34:14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,815</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/22933942</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/JET_Playin/pseuds/JET_Playin</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Greg and Vince are working from the same cookbook but seem to be on completely different pages...</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter, Vincent Crabbe/Gregory Goyle</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>44</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>For Fuck's Sake</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Hey! My first rarepair! Enormous thanks to Triggerlil for being an amazing beta and sounding board!</p>
<p>Disclaimer:<br/>I do not own the characters or settings, just like to play with them</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Glancing around the room, Greg shuffled to the long table at the back to collect ingredients. Everyone else was doing the same, or doing what Vince did; setting up their workstations while their partners collected ingredients. Well, everyone except Draco and Potter. They were too wrapped up in each other to follow the directions. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Greg didn't mind. It was nice to see them doing so well, after years of fighting and pining. Potter had saved them from the fire almost a year before. Well, Potter and Weasley. And they'd spoken on behalf of all of the Death Eater children, telling the Wizengamot that they weren’t in control of their actions. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It didn't work for everyone; some of their peers were under house arrest until they were deemed old enough to be imprisoned with their parents. But those were the few who rejected what Potter and his friends said. Those were the diehard loyalists who didn't bother thinking of themselves, only the cause. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Greg wasn't that stupid. He was sorted into Slytherin for a reason, no matter what the rest of the school thought of him. He wasn't as loyal as he used to be, not after Potter flew back into that fire to rescue Vincent. He was hurt, bad, but alive. No thanks to Voldemort. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Fact was, Potter saved the lives of both of his best friends. So, if he wanted to climb all over Draco (and Draco sure as shit wanted him to) Greg wasn't going to complain. Even if they were a bit, er, enthusiastic about it. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>When he reached the table, Greg picked out the necessary ingredients—as well as a few extra—and headed back to the workstation just as Vince finished laying out measuring tools. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That everything?” Vince asked, his eyes locked on Draco and Potter with a dark look. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yep. I also got some sour cream,” he said, chuckling at their Muggle Studies professor. “I bet Professor Gringe put it up there thinking we shouldn't use it, but Mama says— ”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Think they'll ever give it a rest?” Vince interrupted, nodding toward Draco's table where Potter was finally rising to collect ingredients. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Dunno. Maybe.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sitting heavily, Greg set about sorting their ingredients between wet and dry. He tried not to think about the way Vince seemed to feel about Draco's relationship. His annoyance was uncomfortable, to say the least. It certainly didn't make Greg's own feelings any easier to live with. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>How could he hope to get past Vince’s obvious distaste and confess his embarrassing crush when the man clearly detested the idea of two men together? Well, he couldn't. So he didn't and chose, instead, to settle for friendship. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It wasn't like Greg was gay anyway. He liked girls. Just, not as much as he liked Vince. Vince was strong and handsome, and he always smelled like a forest. Greg wasn't a small bloke, but he'd always felt small. Except when Vince was around. Vince made him feel ten feet tall. Well, until he started commenting on Draco's thing with Potter. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It's just gross, you know?” he said. “The rest of us don't want to see that shit.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“S’pose not,” Greg lied. He set the dry ingredients in front of Vince. “You mix these and I'll do the rest.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah, okay,” Vince mumbled before sitting and pulling the cookbook closer. “It's just- it's Potter. Draco hated him for years. Now, suddenly, he can't get enough of him?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I don't think Draco hated him,” Greg said, reaching for the eggs. “Remember when you liked that girl? When we were kids.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That was different,” Vince scoffed. “She had cooties. And she was horrible to you,” he went on, dumping flour and cocoa powder into a large mixing bowl and sending a cloud of dust into the air. It covered his face and apron, but he didn't seem to notice. “Potter's been horrible to you, too. He's been horrible to all of us.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We were horrible too,” Greg said. It had taken him a while to realise that, but he had. And Vince would, too. “But he's not horrible now. He saved us. He saved you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I know. But that? Just because they're faffing about doesn't mean the rest of us should have to watch. It's plain public decency, mate. You and me don't go snogging in the middle of class.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Greg froze, his head poised to nod in agreement. He swallowed and continued the gesture. “Right,” he said, laughing nervously. “That would never happen.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Too right. Because we have self control. That's the important thing in this; self control.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Are you-” Greg began, but lost his nerve. Of course Vince wasn't saying they should snog in private. It was an example. What did Granger call that? A mellafore. But Vince was looking at him expectantly, waiting for him to finish whatever he was going to say. “Are you done?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>With a whisk in one hand, flour and cocoa coating his “Kiss the Cook” apron in a fine dusting, Vince sank to his stool. “Yeah. What next?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Greg looked down at the bowl he was stirring. “Right,” he said, picking up the sour cream and spooning a measure into his bowl. “We're just about ready to mix that into this.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You're really good at this, aren't you?” Vince asked, grinning. “What's the sour cream for?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Mama says it helps the cake stay moist,” Greg told him, his head ducked to hide the flush heating his cheeks. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He liked baking, always had. Mama always said, “if you like cake, you’d best learn how to make it.” The Goyles might have been purebloods, but they weren't well off like Draco's family; everybody pitched in.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Taking Vince’s bowl, Greg tipped it into his own, steadily mixing the wet and dry ingredients. When Vince held out his hands, Greg gladly passed it over, letting him have a turn.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Why don’t you just put it all in one bowl to start with?” he asked, a little wrinkle between his brows. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“This way, everything mixes in all the way. Otherwise, there’s little clumps of flour when you cook it.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Next, he poured it into the pan and turned away to put it in the oven while Vince checked the book and set a timer. With nothing left to do but wait, Vince went back to glaring at Draco and Potter. They were also done mixing the cake, but theirs was still sitting on their worktop because they were too busy giggling over something or other.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“And there! Why they gotta sit so close to talk?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Greg flinched. This was madness, he thought. It couldn’t go on forever, or he’d lose his mind. “Is it because they’re gay?” he asked, eyes downcast.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What?” Vince all but shouted. “Why would you ask me that?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well, it looks like that’s what’s happening,” he muttered.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You think… Look, Greg, I know I haven’t kissed you yet, but I— well, I thought you weren’t ready.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Greg stared, more than a bit confused. He couldn’t have heard that right. “Come again?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I know, it’s been months already, but you don’t really, I don’t know, give off that message?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Months of what?” Now Vince just stared, looking at him like he’d grown another head. “What? Shit, Vince, just tell me.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Damn it, Greg, what are you playing at?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The timer began to ring, startling both of them. When Greg turned to collect their cake, he saw several pairs of eyes dart away from their direction. Setting the cake on the worktop, he pulled off his oven mitts and tossed them down, then headed for the door, trusting that Vince was right behind him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>In the corridor, he turned and crossed his arms. “Okay, what are you talking about?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I thought I was talking about us, but now I don’t know. There! That look, there. Why do you look confused?” Vince demanded. “Are you pissed that I haven’t?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Haven’t what?” Greg asked again, just to make sure he heard right.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You are. Well, fuck Greg, I’m sorry.” As if that cleared everything up, Vince crossed the space between them, grabbed Greg’s shoulders, and yanked him forward, planting his lips firmly on his. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Greg froze, then sort of… melted. Vincent Crabbe was kissing him and Greg didn’t exactly know how to respond. Should he kiss back, he wondered as Vince slid their lips together, again and again, as if he couldn’t tell Greg was still as a statue. When he pulled back, Greg followed instinctively before righting himself. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh,” he said. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Vince laughed and pulled Greg closer, sliding an arm around his waist. “Liked that, did you?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Something in the sound he heard a moment later suggested Greg might have whimpered… a bit… Clearing his throat, he nodded. “Er, yes. That was quite, er… Bu—but, you don’t want to do that in public?” he asked lamely.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He shrugged. “I dunno. Don’t know why I got so mad. I was prob’ly just annoyed ‘cause they get to do it but I didn’t. You’re not exactly lovey.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I didn’t know I was supposed to be lovey!” Greg all but shouted. “You sound an awful lot like you’re saying we’re together, but I don’t remember that happening. Did you ask me? Did I—?” He paled. Surely he hadn’t confessed? Only, if he had, it had apparently worked… </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Nobody </span>
  <em>
    <span>asked,</span>
  </em>
  <span>” Vince sniggered. “It just happened. You don’t remember swimming over the summer hols?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I remember swimming,” he said, even more confused. “But nothing weird happened.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It wasn’t weird. We just, you know…” he trailed off, actually turning a little pink. “We wrestled, in the lake.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re talking like we… we didn’t fool around or anything, right?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No, but I thought— Shit,” he said, eyes popping wide. “You didn’t— so we’re not—? Oh, fuck. I’m gonna be sick.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Wait! It’s not a bad thing, is it? If you thought we were… but-but I didn’t, well, it’s not too bad. Just means you were happy for a tick while I was busy wishing I was happy.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Vince stared, confusion clouding his eyes. “How is you wishing you were happy a good thing?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Greg thought about that for a moment, then shook his head. “Never mind. The point is, I want to be with you, if that’s what you want.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I thought I already said that’s what I want.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Greg mustered up his courage, smirked, and asked, “Then why are we arguing instead of snogging?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He opened his mouth to argue, then stilled, closed it. Grinned. Within a second, he had his arm around Greg’s waist again, one hand against his cheek, and their foreheads resting against one another as he just stared. The moment their lips touched again, the classroom door burst open, students pouring out and jostling past them. And Vince didn’t pull away, not even when Draco’s voice cut through the noise with a startled “for fuck’s sake!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The End</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thanks for reading!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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